A month ago (wow, a lot has happened in a month), Keith and I were nearly beside ourselves potty training Blaise. We both remember things being surprisingly easy with Roman (although I think there is some parental history skewing in those memories.)

I read several books, searched the internet, talked to people. But I hadn't found anything that I really wanted to implement. Until I read this post by MckMama over at My Charming Kids.

Her technique is very laid back. Which suited me. I don't need to be getting all worked up over pee. I have enough on my, er... suddenly "plate" doesn't seem like a good word choice here.

Basically, it is letting children go "bottomless" to connect their physical feelings with a physical result. "Oh, I felt like this, and "piddle" came out of me (yes, we have our own strange nicknames for bodily functions).

We didn't start bottomless training at our old apartment, because most of the apartment was carpeted, and we were getting it cleaned prior to the move. But once we got to our new house, complete with a wide expanse of laminate flooring, the pants came off.

And it worked! Blaise would go all day without an accident. Or he would come yelling that he needed to go potty. Then he would say that he had "piddled" on the floor and show me two or three small drops.

We've been doing this for a couple weeks and during his bottomless time, he had fewer and fewer accidents. Practically none the last several days.

We were now brave enough to go on to step 2: underwear. We put on his first pair on Saturday. He's still very proud of them.

Saturday went great, just two accidents. Sunday, a few more. Today, a few more.

All completely expected.

The important thing is that we are moving forward!

He still wears diapers (or Pull-Ups, but who are we kidding? Pull-Ups are just diapers with different pictures and side closures) at nap and bedtime. Because I have my limits on how much laundry I want to do.

Saturday, June 27, 2009

When he was born, I felt old enough to have this darling newborn cuddle up to me.

But now that he is seven, I don't feel old enough or prepared enough.

He, on the other hand, is perfectly ready to be seven. Even when he woke up, he said, "Know what? I actually feel bigger today."

During moments like these, it is hard not to look back and reminisce about the baby he was and the charming boy he has become.

Two years old

Three years old

Another three year old pictureI love his eyes!

Four years old...And silly!

Four years old

Five years old

Six years old

(I would have loved to put some baby pictures in, but none of them are scanned into the computer yet.)

There was no big birthday party today. There was just the four of us. But it has been an amazing day.

First, another butterfly greeted us in the jar on the counter early this morning...

Then, a multitude of ducks greeted us at the river's edge...

After that, it was time for Pixar's "Up." Complete with 3-D glasses. (And I totally recommend this movie. We loved it!)

Then cake, candles, and presents.

You have to admit that the cake turned out awesome! Every year, I let the boys request whatever they want for their birthday cake. And then it is up to me to figure out how to make it happen. It can be a little time consuming. But I only have to make two cakes a year. And it is always worth it, to see their faces light up.

Roman requested the "Hot Wheels Logo" for his cake. (Yes, his exact words.) And that's what he got! He loved it.

Where has the time gone?

I wish that I could take credit for how smart he is, for how curious he is, for how sensitive he is. But I know that I can't. All I know is that Keith and I were blessed to have Roman. Before he came along, we were just a couple. Roman came and made us a family.

Friday, June 26, 2009

I know that we should be working on the house. I could have been painting yet even more trim. But the temperature and humidity was tolerable today.

So Roman, Blaise, and I set out for a much needed, much anticipated adventure.

We first heard about Hickory Hill Park from our real estate agent. Although she had lived nearly her entire life in this town, she only "discovered" the park after her own children found it as teenagers.

And judging by how few people we saw (two others) it is a well kept secret.

It says "Park" but for me, it was more of a glimpse of what Iowa may have been like before it was covered in small towns and neighborhoods. Before the trees were chopped down and replaced with corn fields.

For over two hours, we wandered down curved trails underneath towering hardwoods. Squirrels, chipmunks, and rabbits constantly darted across the path, some even taking their sweet time about it and giving us a look over while they were at it.

Thursday, June 25, 2009

In a world where people live and die from decisions people make, where 80 hour work weeks are considered merciful, and you are asked to give up sleep and family time without a blink, we're supposed to be tough.

But I'm feeling anything but.

I am scared. Probably more scared than I have ever been in my whole life.

I realize now that all those other times I thought I was scared, I was just nervous. (Well, except before Bug was born. I was actually scared then. But completely different.)

This time, I'm so scared it is difficult to swallow. I walk around with this strange feeling in my stomach that alternates between a dead weight and a hole. I find myself looking at the ceiling when I thought I was sleeping.

Starting July 1st, I am actually going to be taking care of patients. Not medical student patient care. Not "go see this patient, write a note, tell me what you think, and then I'll take care of the rest" type patient care.

This is the real thing.

Obviously (and probably a huge source of relief to all you reading this) I am supervised. Closely.There are people very invested, for my sake, their sake, the hospital's sake, and mostly the patient's sake, very invested in making sure I don't screw up.

But for the first time, I can sign my name with an MD behind it. And if I write an order in a patient's chart, it will happen. For the first time in my professional life, I have real responsibility that has real consequences. Never will the transition be so enormous.

As a medical student, we can interject our opinions or thoughts, but in the end, we are not responsible. Now, I carry the title "Intern." And that means I am responsible.

I love patients. I love the feeling that I am in a field where someone, voluntary or not, puts their trust in me to take care of them. To treat them. To ease their pain and their worries.

Only in parenthood do we see that some type of trust.

And the thought that I might hurt someone, unintentionally of course, but still hurt someone none the less, scares me.

During medical school, we study nearly endlessly. We take exam after exam. We sacrifice for that opportunity.

We caught them a couple weeks ago off the milk weed in the field next door. I wish I had taken pictures then, to show you their black, green, yellow, and white fat little bodies. And how Roman kept saying "They look just like they are make out of clay."

We actually watched one make his chrysalis. Even surrounded by medicine and the marvels of technology, the simple things of nature are sometimes the most miraculous. How in mere minutes, this fat J of a caterpillar covered himself in shiny, protective greenness.

And today, emerged as a butterfly.

It doesn't matter how common place these things are, or how often we see it. The fact that this transformation occurred in a jar on our kitchen counter is amazing.

(I, of course, missed the whole thing. I was at hospital orientation. But as I am now being paid for this, I will try to think of everyday differently.)

The boys were amazed. Roman said he did want to hold the butterfly with his finger, but it just wouldn't come of the stick they had used to retrieve it from the jar.

Although, from these pictures it looks like no one really wanted to hold the butterfliesBlaise especially looks thrilled about this

Monday, June 22, 2009

So after a very long time, I've decided to participate in the blog festival that is "Not Me! Mondays" created by MckMama. I've read these posts on many of my favorite blogs, but have never had a reason to participate...

Until now! I can't think of a better way to sum up this week then "NOT ME!"

Things are crazy when you're moving. Everyone knows that. Add a apparently not-so-minor home renovation on top of that, and, well, we've just approached a whole new level of craziness.

But even with that, every girl has her limits.

I DID NOT leave the dishes undone and piling up in the sink. Keith DID NOT feel obliged to mention the insane amount of dishes. Because I am always on top of housework. And Keith doesn't mind a little craziness.

And then, while I was NOT adding a seventh layer of paint to the trim, the dishes DID NOT do themselves. Or did they...?

I DO NOT hate trim. Because painting seven layers of glossy white paint on trim is fun.

I DID NOT cry when we pulled back the carpet in the family room.

Because we DID NOT find mold. We DID NOT find water. Our family room does NOT leak every time it rains. Who would buy a house like that? Not me.

I DID NOT get a massive sunburn on my back and arms and shoulders when we were at the lake. Because everyone knows that I'm obsessive about sunscreen. I still DO NOT think it was a glorious day.

I DID NOT panic when I came home from my lab coat fitting and found this in our master bedroom.

Because I am always very calm. I was perfectly aware that fixing the floor joist was going to be a big project. So I absolutely DID NOT freak out at the size of the hole.

I AM NOT having moments of complete panic about being a resident and all the responsibility that goes along with it. I AM NOT having moments of terror when I think about being in the ER next week. Because I am a calm individual and and completely prepared for residency.

I AM NOT blogging instead of making dinner. I would never do that.

What have you not done this week? Head over to MckMama to see what everyone else hasn't done?

Sunday, June 21, 2009

Since residency orientation starts this week, we've tried to slow down on the home renovations this weekend, so that we could enjoy some quality time together.

Yesterday, we went back to the fossil beds to see how the tadpoles were doing (and to look for more fossils).

We found both fossils and frogs.

Roman with his fossil find (look closely around his feet)

Little tadpole becoming a frog

Tiny little frog (you can still even see a bit of his tail)

Another tiny frog

Our plans for Father's Day were to go up to the lake, do some swimming and boating.

We woke up to pouring rain.

But as the rain turned into a drizzle around noon, we decided to head out anyways.

We are so glad that we did. The clouds rolled away, and we enjoyed the beach under a beautiful blue sky and hot sun.

When everyone was sufficiently waterlogged and then stuffed with watermelon, hummus, (and, um, soda) we went for a long pedal boat ride.

Soaking up the sun

The lake is so beautiful. The day was so nice. It was such a wonderful day together.

Now, if anyone is still hunger, I do plan on making hamburgers this evening. Or just telling people that there is a lot of left-over watermelon.

I would also like to tell Keith how lucky we are that he is our dad. Roman and Blaise are so blessed to have someone for a father who is truly invested in them, loves them fiercely, and wants every good thing for them.

Thank you, Keith, for giving the title "Dad" so much meaning. We love you.

(And you'll notice there are pictures in this post. Which means I (actually Keith) found my card reader. Which means very soon there will be pictures of our remodel posted here. Hang tight!)

When I tell him this, he just shrugs and mentions the times when he gets frustrated with the boys, or is too tough on them.

I didn't say he was a perfect dad. Just an absolutely fantastic one.

He loves being the father of our two boys. He wants to share everything that he did as a kid with them. From learning how to shoot a slingshot, to catching caterpillars, to watching old cartoons.

One of my favorite things is to see all three of my boys on the couch together, giggling loudly to Tom and Jerry.

After Bug was born, and Hubster offered to take him for a diaper change, my mother-in-law stated she was surprised that he was so willing to be involved like that. I guess after raising him as a teenager that did everything he could to get out of chores, seeing her son willingly change diapers, warm bottles, and supervise bath time would be surprising.

Friday, June 19, 2009

Roman won't need one this time, since we plan on getting him enrolled in his elementary school's after school program. The one at his school is supposed to be the best in the area (even some of the daycare directors I've talked to today have confirmed this.)

I hate that we need daycare.

I went back to school full time when Roman was 6 weeks old. It was one of the most difficult things I had to do. Fortunately, at that time, my parents lived reasonably close to us and my mom was able to watch my darling little baby for me.

But it was still hard for me to hand over my still very new little baby and leave for sometimes the entire day.

My parents moved when Roman was about 6 months old. At that time, one of Keith's sisters was able to watch him. She lived an additional 30 minutes away, but had a little girl close to his age. My SIL watched Roman until about 2 years old. At that time, she was expected another baby, and felt that it was too much to continue to watch him. After that, we found neighbors and friends to watch him.

The problem with having friends and relatives act as your very full time babysitter is that there was always a sense that we were an inconvenience to them. It means that they need to conform to your schedule, which can impact family activities or even vacations. During finals, when days might go longer, they would have to watch Roman longer. Some semesters, I had very early morning classes, which meant that I occasionally woke people up, much earlier then they probably would have liked.

We still appreciate every person who helped us out during that time. They freely gave of their time and support.

But after Blaise was born, we decided we could not continue to prey on other people's schedules. Especially with two children.

At that time, we looked to professional child care. I looked into nannies, but our "budget" just didn't allow it (I say budget, but what I really mean is extra student loans.)

So, when Roman was 4, and Blaise was 6 months old, and I was headed back to medical school after a nearly 7 month hiatus, the boys started in daycare. (I'm so glad I so much time with Blaise as a baby. A whole 6 months where he was just mine.)

In someways, it was easier for me. Especially since it was Keith who dropped them off (my days started at 5 am, way before any center was opened).

I don't like that my darling children have spent so much time in daycare. Obviously, I would much rather that they had spent most of that time at home, with me, surrounded by people absolutely invested in them.

But that, unfortunately, was not an option (unless I were to quit school. And don't think that thought didn't cross my mind nearly everyday.)

But daycare had definitely made somethings easier. We don't impact other peoples schedules. The center is there, for us, and if we drop them off earlier or later, or pick them up earlier or later, or have a day off and they don't go, it doesn't matter.

Roman and Blaise have had the chance to interact with more children, do more activities, learn more than they might have otherwise.

Blaise has been out of daycare since March. And he was only going part-time for several months before that.

Everyday we have together is so precious to me.

But now, we are on the search again. Hopefully for a place that we both feel comfortable being his second home.

And this particular book has been sitting on my side bar for a long time.

But, okay, here's the confession...

I didn't read it.

I tried. I really did. The title, Far from the Maddening Crowd, just sounds so intriguing and appealing. It was another 1800s English literature book, which I usually just love.

So I really did try.

But I was only able to get about 5 chapters in before I called it quits. Which makes this book only the second book that I have started to read and not finished. The other book is Lord Jim, by Joseph Conrad. I still plan on reading that book, mostly because I loved Heart of Darkness so much. But when I started reading Lord Jim was in the middle of my clinicals during third year of medical school, and I did not have enough reserve brain power to devote to the book at the time.

But I digress.

Why did I not continue to read this book?

Because it was the most tedious thing I have ever tried to read.

Long, drawn-out descriptions of dogs, or farming, or tools. Pages upon pages of conversations at taverns. With so little character and plot development by chapter 5 I just couldn't take it anymore.

It had none of the appeal and entertainment of Austen, or moodiness of Bronte, or wit of Dickens.

Plus, it also had a chauvinistic thread through it that grated on my nerves.

I'm sure that there is someone out there that has read this book. And possibly even liked it. If you know of a reason I should pick this book back up and finish it, let me know.

Thursday, June 18, 2009

(Home Depot probably is, but as there is no Home Depot here, and I've never bought anything from them, I can't be completely sure.)

Lowe's really needs to add another layer to their employee training.

The skill to size up a customer's ability to actually do the project they are buying materials for.

Let's say, hypothetically of course, that a Lowe's employee has a couple come through their check out lane. That couple is buying 7 blank doors, a hinge and lock drilling kit, the hardware for said doors, and about 20 gallons of paint.

The appropriate thing to do would be to say, "Have you considered pre-hung doors? It's doing to take you hours upon hours to drill the holes for locks and chisel the slots for hinges. And then when you're done, you're going to find out that the door is a quarter of an inch too big anyways."

Or when the same couple comes through the next day with 30 boxes of Pergo flooring, someone should at least mention Lowe's installation services. Or mention the hours of frustration that couple has in front of them.

But when a person is standing in the flooring, or lighting, or paint section of the hardware store, they are filled with sugar plum plans for their new home. They get excited about the possibilities. The more excited they become, the more confident they become in their own skills.

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

I feel like I really need to do a recap of my week. I know that it's actually been a week and a half, and that weekly recaps are best done on a Friday, or Sunday, or maybe even a Monday. But mine is going to be on Wednesday. Because that's what I've got.

So here we go...

(And there will be pictures for the post. Someday. As soon as I figure out which box has my camera card reader.)

Friday, June 5:

Roman's last day of school. First grade sounded so old and grown up to me, and now it's gone, and he's going to be a second grade.

We picked up our ginormous U-Haul truck. We finished packing the last few boxes. My brothers and sisters and mom came over to help us load the previously mentioned beast. This took nearly all day.

And then we still had to clean the apartment. And the apartment management said "please focus on the blinds." Two blinds in, I was ready to go buy new ones. But that would have eaten into our refundable deposit. And these days, we need every penny. So I just kept on cleaning blinds.

Saturday, June 6:

Got our sleepy boys, my mom, my little brother David, all loaded up in our SUV and truck, and started out. No fanfare, no crying. Just a full truck and a very long drive. (We did head out nearly 2 hours later than we originally wanted, but still early enough to miss morning rush hour.)

So, I had this brilliant idea to take a picture of the surroundings we were driving through once every hour. And I was going to post them in order. 8 am: Parley's Canyon, 9 am nearly out of Utah, 10 am, Evanston (sarcastic yeah!) And then late in the day, I realized that no one wants to read a post with over 20 hours of scenery pictures. So I'll just post the highlights (yes, there were highlights.) Eventually. When I find that particular box.

We drove out of Utah, and into Wyoming. And no offense to anyone living in southern Wyoming...but it's ugly. It was by far the worst part of the trip. My mom drove from Rawlins to Cheyenne and I slept. Around Cheyenne, the scenery started to improve.

Then we drove part the way across Nebraska. Everyone kept saying that would be the worst part of the trip, but I liked it. We drove along the Platte River, and there were a lot of trees, and ponds. Everything was so green and pretty.

Sunday, June 7:

First real meal in 2, maybe 3 days: Waffles at La Quinta. Food that was not out of a box or from a drive through!

Drove the rest of the way across Nebraska. And into Iowa.

Got stuck in traffic for nearly one hour because part of a wind generator had fallen off a truck.

Got to our hew home at 6 pm.

Explored the area.

Love it, love it, love it!

Monday, June 8:

Try to go and buy carpet for the upstairs. Realize it is going to take a long time. Cry just a little. Pick up lights, doors, paint.

Let the real fun begin.

Tuesday, June 9:

Decide we DO NOT want to live with popcorn ceilings. Make sure it is not asbestos. Start scraping ceilings.

Very, very dirty.

Wendesday, June 10:

Finish scraping popcorn ceilings. Now have one trash can completely filled with popcorn and plaster.

Sand ceilings so they are relatively smooth. This is awful. As in no description. There is dust over everything. The cabinets are covered with plastic. It looks like a demolition zone. I may or may not cry a little at this point.

Friday, June 12, 2009

We are still getting our clothes out of suitcases. We are sleeping on the floor.

There is sawdust, and plaster dust, and paint everywhere.

I'm beginning to think that trying to do an entire home renovation in 10 days was a really, really, really bad idea.

But we love Iowa. We love our neighborhood. The woods next to us are filled with fireflies, caterpillars, cardinals. There is a little bunny that lives in our backyard and squirrels in our front tree. It is a little boys paradise.

I can already see the signs of the stress of change in my boys. Blaise is crying a lot more than usual, potty training has almost stopped, and he hasn't slept through the night in almost a week. Roman is much quieter than usual.

It's a big change. For all of us.

I'm not going to have internet for several days (maybe longer.) So you'll just have to use your imagination about how things are going. Until I get internet again and can tell you.

Thursday, June 4, 2009

I wait in line excited, watching the people riding before me envious that they have already made it through the line and onto the ride.

But every time I'm in my seat, harness clicked in place, and moving slowly, slowly up the hill, I start to get a little panicky. I know the ride will be fun, but the slow clanking ride upward makes me nervous. Right at that moment I want off.

I'm getting that feeling now.

We pick up the moving truck in the morning. We hit the road the day after. I don't think I've been this excited about something in a long time.

But tonight has the feel of the chain clanking under my feet as I reach the summit.

And I'm scared.

...

...

I tried to think of a nice tie in to this next part, but couldn't. So here it goes. This is less of a confession and more of a...confidence. I don't know. You read, and then you tell me.

I don't really have any friends.

(Okay, don't sit there reading this and say "Oh, the poor girl." Or "Great. I smell a pity party.")

It's not like I've never had any.

I had a lot of friends during high school. But as high school friends, we lost touch as we went our separate ways.

I was friends with my roommates during undergrad. But I was a science major living with three music majors and we all had such different personalities, I think we were glad to let things slip when we moved out.

Out of my group of childhood friends, I was the only one who went to college. I think that decision put a little distance between us. Not purposefully of course. A few of them talked about going to college.

There was always a lot of talk.

It was medical school that really put the nail in the coffin of many of my childhood friendships. Some of my friends were not that subtle about that fact that they were not interested in continuing our relationship.

At first I just thought it was because between raising two boys and working on my medical degree, my schedule just didn't allow for as much time together as it once had.

But after a few obvious snubs, I began to think it might be more.

I blamed myself mostly. I wasn't there enough. I wasn't trying hard enough. I just wasn't a good friend.

Hubster has always been of a different mindset. He thinks that most of my friends were intimidated by what I was doing. That suddenly all their talk couldn't hold up to my actions.

I had always dismissed this.

Until recently. I read an article that female physicians have a hard time making friends in general. Some of it is self-induced seclusion. But not all. Women have talked about negative reactions they have gotten once other women have found out that they are doctors. Soon, they just stop telling people what they do for a living. They try to avoid conversation about work so they won't be asked the question that will stop all future conversation. Many have guessed at possible reasons. The other women are intimidated by the title. Others don't think they are "worthy" (huh) of physician friends. Whatever the problem is, apparently I'm not alone in it.

Medical school was the most emotionally demanding, physically exhausting thing I have ever done (and that is including surviving two newborn phases of 1 am-3am-4am-6am feedings). However it offered a respite from the loneliness that I had felt before that time. I had the most amazing friends in medical school. People that were working towards the same goal I was. People that were coping with the same challenges. People that weren't offended if you didn't make it to a party, because well, they didn't make it either, because they were home studying for the same exam.

But medical school ended and my friends are scattered across the country. We still talk occasionally. But, obviously, it is not the same.

Blogging has helped. I get to have conversations. I've reconnected with people I hadn't talked to in years. Some have even gotten to see that I haven't turned into the emotionless controlling "stereotypical" doctor. And I've made bloggy friends.

Which I get to take with me regardless of where I live.

I've been asked if I'm sad about moving. Scared? Yes. Sad? Not really. Yes I will miss my mom only being an hour away.

But I'm not really leaving anyone else.

I think being lonely in Iowa will be about the same as being lonely in Utah.

Monday, June 1, 2009

We are real home owners now. We are saying goodbye to apartment living. Goodbye to sharing walls and floors, and ceilings with people. Goodbye to too little space and too many restrictions.

With the joy of closing, comes the not so joyful start of packing.

Keith and I have spent the last two days cleaning appliances, carpets, and blinds. We seriously better get our deposit back.

(And why do you have to pay an extra deposit for having a pet, but not a two year old. I bet the neighbor's tabby cat never colors on the wall with marker. And I doubt that basset make dents in the hall wall with a golf club.)

(Okay, actually, Hubster and I had signed the papers in front of a notary and FedEx-ed them back on Thursday. But that's a minor detail.)

Today, the house is officially ours!

About time!!!

I've said it before. We hate apartment living. But before now, there was never a good time to buy. We didn't buy when we first got married, because we just couldn't afford it. And then we didn't buy, because we didn't know where I would go for medical school. And then we didn't buy because we weren't sure where we wanted to live. And then we didn't buy because we didn't know where I would go for residency.

You get the picture.

But now, we are going to be in one place for quite a few years. We get the opportunity to settle down.

And we couldn't be happier.

Things we are looking forward to

- a back yard!!! Monkey and Bug will be able to run outside when ever they want. And kick balls and blow bubbles.

- more space. Seriously, our apartment is about 700 square feet. And we've got four people in here. It's just a little bit crowded.

- a garage. Now we don't have to basically draw straws for who gets the covered parking during the winter. We both get covered parking!

- a garden. I can stop growing things in the window sills and start growing them outside.

- people. My family is here. And being 1200 miles away will make the casual weekend at my mom's just a little harder.

- the mountains. Never thought I'd hear myself say that. But I've become slightly attached the last couple years.

- the familiarity. It's going to be tough getting to know a new city after having lived in this one for so long.

But we are excited!

Things we will NOT NOT NOT miss...

- the downstairs neighbors. Wow, they've made our life miserable, what with their broom and all. I drop up cup putting away dishes. Bam bam bam. Monkey rolls a ball in the kitchen. Bam bam bam. Bug falls over in a fit of laughter. Bam bam bam.

- the cramped space.

- the smokey smell the maintenance man leaves behind everytime he comes in to fix something.

Me

I am the mother of three boys and the only girl in this family of five. I adore being a parent more than I imagined. Currently, my free time is spent as an anesthesiologist. I'm usually happy, always tired, and learning to be more laid back.

Hubster

Hubster is my wonderful husband. He is in his last year of dental school. He never fails to impress me with his patience, handy man skills, and ongoing ability to put up with all the craziness in our lives.

Bug

Bug is our amazing 12 year old. He is creative and smart, and developing an impressive sarcastic side. In addition to his love of reading (which I like to take credit for), he's also developing an interest in running, coding, and resistance to chores.

Monkey

Monkey is our happy 8 year old. He is loud, laughing, and fearless, marching to the beat of his own drum. He makes friends where ever he goes. He will talk your ear off about Pokemon and Minecraft. His imagination is boundless and his sense of style all his own.

Duck

At two years of age, Duck is the baby of the family. He's still cuddly and adorable, but working on developing the perfect tantrum. He adores his big brothers and a good snuggle almost as much as he enjoys chasing the cats.

I'm Currently Reading...

Bug and I are Reading Together...

What We Are Eating This Week

Monday: Tacos

Tuesday: Hot Dogs

Wednesday: Lentil Soup

Thursday: Chicken Pot Pie

Friday: Homemade Pizza

Saturday: Fried Rice

Sunday: Salad Bar

They Said It Better...Weekly Quote

"What I can do is offer myself, wholeheartedly and present, to walk with the people I love through the fear and the mess. That's all any of us can do. That's what we're here for."